It's Okay
by JLawismyinspiration
Summary: How I think the conversation in the hospital between Andy and Nick should go. Not Andy/Nick
1. Chapter 1

Gail was the first to get up, which surprised them all. When Andy came back into the room, hastily wiping away the mascara lines streaking her face, Gail was the first to step forward and pull her into an embrace, whispering that she was sorry, that she was sorry, so sorry. Andy could only return her hug and stand there with empty eyes. Andy told of the doctors trying to save him, how she had been banished from the small room as quickly as she had entered. Walking from Gail's embrace, she collapsed in a chair a put her head in her hands. Tracy walked over and put her arm around Andy, who didn't acknowledge the gesture of comfort.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, sitting silently around the waiting room, praying for good news. No familiar doctors or nurses came around again, but no one knew whether that was a good sign or a bad one. Eventually the waiting room began to clear, officers tired and restless to return to their own families, especially after the days' events. Soon only Andy, Frank, Tracy and Nick remained in the waiting room, which although large, threatened to suffocate them all with its stark white walls and crushing silence.

Eventually the original doctor returned, and informed the four that Sam had been taken up to surgery, and that they could follow him up to the waiting room on the surgical floor. They had just stepped out of the elevator when the doctors had rushed past with Sam, shouting unintelligible things and shoving people out of the way. It knocked the wind out of Andy, who wrapped her arms around herself and willed herself to keep breathing.

Her efforts were proven futile when, a second later, she blacked out.

Tracy's voice came out of a thick white mist, calling her name. All she could see was white. The mist swirled around her, growing thicker and thicker. She pushed her way through it and fell back to earth.

She opened her eyes to a steady beeping at her right and a soft voice at her left. Tracy sat in a cracked plastic hospital chair by her side, and Frank stood in the doorway of her room. Nick sat on the couch in the corner of the room, gaze sweeping the entire room.

"How long have I been out?" Andy rasps, vocal chords still clogged with tears.

"A couple hours," answers Tracy's' soft voice, "I brought you some clothes to change into."

The doctor, a different one, returns and tells her that she's free to go. She changes in the small bathroom; avoiding the mirror for sure thought that if she sees her own refection she'll start crying again.

She steps out the bathroom, looking up at Tracy, silently pleading for information.

"He's out of surgery. He's in a medically induced coma, but the doctor's think he'll wake up in the next week or so." Her voice is soft and slow, as if speaking to child about something they can't quite understand. Tracy steps forward to gage Andy's reaction. Andy squeezes her eyes and mouth shut, and wills the tears away.

"Okay," she chokes, looking at the floor. She breathes a deep breath, looking up, "Okay."

Tracy asks if she'd like to see him, and Andy nods. The odd group of four exits the hospital room and round the hallway. Up three floors, and around a corner, they come upon Sam's room.

They approach his room, and Andy looks through the window, at the mess of tubes and wires, and grips Tracy's hand. Tracy squeezes back, and together, they keep her conscious. Tracy offers her a seat, but she prefers to stand. Frank put a hand on her shoulder, tells her apologetically that he better get back to 15 to supervise, and to call with any updates. Tracy squeezes her shoulder and asks if she wants a cup of coffee. It's five in the morning, and besides blacking out, she hasn't really slept in over twenty hours. She smiles, and Tracy disappears down the hall.

That leaves her and Nick, standing alone in the hallway. If it were a different situation, she would berate herself on her bad judgment. Now that Tracy is gone, she's caught between her boyfriend and the man she just confessed her love for. Shit. She contemplates her choices, and not for the first time, throws caution to the wind.

"Nick," her voice cracking horribly, "I have to tell you the truth. In the ambulance...with Sam, I ended up telling him…I still loved him." She looks down at the floor, and then back up at him.

"Do you?" His voice is soft, like he already knows the answer. His eyes too, are shining with tears.

Her reluctant cry is answer enough for him, as she breaks his gaze a looks at the floor, arms wrapped around herself. She expects him to be mad, to cry, to get angry, shout even, but his reaction, is quite the opposite.

His bog arms wrap around her small frame, causing the tears she was holding to break free, and she sobs into his jacket. He holds her tightly, and she thinks if he lets go she'll fall even more apart. She cries apologies into his jacket, choking on tears and words alike. They stand like that for ages, him supporting her for all its worth, as she sobs out apologies and curses. After her sobbing has turned into a lighter stream of tears, and she's gasping for breath once again, he loosens his hold on her. Her arms are still pressed tightly against her own waist, her face still directed at the floor.

"It's okay Andy."

"No, it's not, its-"

He cuts her off, bending his knees so he can meet her eyes, and brings his hands to her shoulders. He holds her there, simultaneously holding her and wiping the tears that are still falling down her face.

"It is okay. It is." His voice is soft, like Tracy's, but he speaks with more conviction. "It is. Look Andy, I… I'm not stupid. And neither is Marlo. Okay? We've heard the stories about you and him." He wipes another stray tear off her cheek and she finally looks up. "There was a part of me that was convinced that I could make you love me as much as you love him. You do. Don't deny it. And it's okay. To love him. It is. I promise. But there was this other part of me that always knew we'd end up here. Come on Andy. No one here is stupid. We all knew you'd end up here. Well not here, in the hospital per say, but here, in this situation."

He stands back up smiling a little, "Hey we can still be break up buddies."

She smiles, and chokes out a tearful laugh. "Does everyone really know?"

Tracy returns, handing Andy and Nick coffees and joining into their conversation. "Oh yeah. We've been taking bets for months on when you two were going to get your acts together." She smiles, a teasing light in her eyes. "No offense," she says looking at Nick, who raises his arms in a gesture, "It's okay."

Andy smiles, and turns her head back towards Sam's room. Her smile fades, but Tracy takes her free hand and squeezes and somehow Andy knows that their story isn't going to end here.

No, this is where their story begins.


	2. Chapter 2

Coffee in one hand, the other grasping on to Tracy, she walked forward into the room. The steady beeping and whooshing noises cloud her mind and seem to close in upon her immediately. Tracy moves instantaneously, pulling a char out of nowhere and taking the coffee out of her hand before pushing her lightly into the seat next to the bed. The hard cracked plastic would seem uncomfortable to some, but her only focus is the mass of tubes and wires sticking out of Sam's chest. She whimpers, and reaches her hand shakily out towards him before folding back around herself. Another chair scraps across the floor as Tracy sits next to her. She wraps her hand around Andy's and takes a sip of her coffee. The scene is all too familiar to her. This is the same position they sat in after Jerry died. Andy seems to sense this too, and shifts in her chair until their arms are twisted as well as their hands. It may be uncomfortable, but Tracy thinks, different arrangement, different outcome. Losing someone you love is one of the things you wish on no one, and especially not your best friend.

The doctor comes back in to check the machines, and updates them with medical jargon they barely understand. A nurse comes in to inform them of visiting hours, and Tracy slides both hers and Andy's badge onto the table and clears her throat softly. The nurse smiles and leaves the room.

Lunchtime rolls around, but neither of them move. Around one Dov practically stomps into the room, placing leftover Chinese on the table.

"Figured you'd be here," he says plopping into the chair across the bed, "Chloe's awake. I talked to her."

"What happened?" asked Tracy, sensing Dov's hostile mood.

"That…that bastard of a husband was abusing her. Hitting her. That's why she left 27. But she never told anyone so no one knew. She woke up and freaked out when she saw he was here. They had to sedate her." He places his head in his hands, looking no better than Andy, who was still staring glassy eyed at Sam same as she was five hours ago.

"Oh my god." Tracy's voice showing horror at the situation as she thinks of small, harmless Chloe being abused.

"Frank arrested him; he's taking him back to 15. I just…I just wish she'd told me. She was so scared." With that Dov rose and exited the room, again pointing to the Chinese food on the side table.

"You should eat, "He said, and then was gone.

Tracy turned back towards Andy, placing her hand over her arm, but Andy didn't seem to feel it.

"Andy," she spoke in the same soft voice, "Andy you should eat."

"I'm not hungry." Her voice sounded out of the hollow depths of her soul, quiet but firm. She turned away from Tracy's comforting hand and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Tracy sighed as Andy pulled herself closer together, and picked up a takeout box. After eating a few pieces of the chicken inside, she silently placed the Chinese food next to Andy's untouched coffee on the table.

Her phone beeped from her side, and she checked it, sighing at the message requesting her return to 15.

"I have to go back" she said to the unmoving form of Andy, who did not respond, nor did she respond to the comforting hand on her shoulder. Sighing, Tracy got up, making a mental note to ask the nurses to check on not only Sam but her every couple of hours if they could.

…

Dov sat beside Chloe's hospital bed. Since waking up, she had been able to change into sweats and a sweatshirt, and now lay under the thick blankets looking no bigger than a child. It made Dov's insides burn to think of what she had been through. He was so wrapped up in his anger that he didn't notice the pair of brown eyes peering out at him for under the covers. When he finally noticed her staring, he tentatively reached out his hand. She took it with no hesitation, pulling him do he was next her, and shifted her weight so she was leaning on him.

"I'm not scared of you."

"I know" he answered letting out a breath, "But I don't want you to be scared of anything."

"I'm not. Not with you here."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

He pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes. "Then you're never going to be scared again."

…

The beeping had grown steadily louder in her ears. She was pretty sure it had been so long sitting there that her heart beat was matching the beat of the machines.

Soft footsteps approached from behind her. The squeak of wheels positioned itself next to her chair.

"McNally," Oliver's voice floated up beside her as Celery sat down in a chair on the other side of his wheelchair.

She looked at him with broken eyes. He pulled her as best he could into his arms. She sat there shaking, too far past tears. Oliver stroked her hair.

Celery silently rose from her chair and crossed over behind Andy. Rubbing her back, Andy slowly stopped shaking. Kneeling beside her, Celery passed the takeout box to Andy, who slowly pulled it towards herself and began to eat. They stayed like that, Oliver holding her, Celery rubbing her back until she had finished eating.

A nurse came around, and told Oliver that he better return to his room.

Celery rose and took her position behind Oliver's wheelchair. Oliver leaned over to kiss Andy's forehead and lay a hand on hers as he was pushed from the room.

"You're some kind of miracle worker," he murmured to Celery as she led him back to his own room. Celery smiled in response.

…

Hours later, Tracy steps back into Sam's hospital room armed with more clothes and several bags filled with takeout boxes and drinks. Her eyes rove over Sam motionless in the hospital bed and land on Andy, still curled up in the same position, though thankfully, asleep. Tracy carefully places the boxes down on the table on the opposite side of the bed as Andy, as not to wake, and occupies the chair there. Twenty minutes later, Andy eyes fly open and she shuffles her chair back with a gasp.

"Nightmare?"

Andy settles her chair back next to the bed, eyeing the bag on the table. Her eyes shift so she's looking at the ground.

"Yeah."

Wordlessly, Tracy passes the takeout boxes and water over to her. Andy takes it gratefully, and demolishes the food, surprising Tracy.

"How are you feeling?"

Andy's eyes go to the ground, but then meet Tracy's holding her gaze.

"I don't know. Okay, I guess. I just- I don't know what I would do if he died, Trace, I don't know.

"Hey, He's not going to die."

"Then why hasn't he woken up yet?"

The question comes out as a shout, startling both of them.

"I'm sorry Trace, I didn't mean to shout."

"It's okay."

Before Andy can answer, another voice joins the fray.

"Maybe it's okay for you, but not for the guy with the killer headache who just got shot in the side."


End file.
